In Your Heart Shall Burn
by SerenityFalconNormandy
Summary: Written for the Dragon Age Reddit Companion Challenge Prompt: Companion POV of the events during In Your Heart Shall Burn What Solas makes of the events of In Your Heart Shall Burn


"Everyone to the gates!"

Fen'lath ran, sliding down the hill before Solas could react. The Blight magic radiating off the dragon circling overhead was setting his teeth on edge, a pulsing ache starting behind one eye. The Iron Bull and Dorian were behind him, swearing up a storm in Qunlat and Tevene, respectively. Like Fen, he also eschewed following the path, and slid down the hill, the sturdy leather of his wraps protecting his feet from the rocks and lingering snow.

Sharp ears picked up Commander Cullen shouting to the soldiers still outside the gates to move, and the large doors slammed closed, bar falling across. Fen glanced up at the dragon flying overhead, and shot Cullen a look that very clearly said, "Really?"

He covered a smile with his hand, disguising a snorting laugh as a cough. Cullen roared so all the soldiers and any remaining civilians could hear, "We need everyone back to the Chantry, it's the only building that might hold against that beast. At this point, just make them _work_ for it."

Fen nodded, and squared her shoulders. _Small shoulders on which rested the weight of the world._ Solas shook his head. Now he sounded like the spirit, Cole. It was an odd moment to notice a little lock of hair had pulled free of her braids and was plastered to her neck by sweat, a delicate curl of obsidian against the stretch of muscle leading from the base of her skull into her armor.

"The villagers will need help if they are to survive this." Dorian pointed to small clusters of people still running from various buildings to the Chantry.

They would need to comb the remaining buildings to ensure they were clear. It was a flurry of lighting, fire, screaming, The Iron Bull's axe whistling through the air, and Red Templars, but all remaining in Haven who yet drew breath were saved. They ran to the Chantry, the last stragglers as the dragon screamed overhead.

He stayed near the door, breathing and concentrating on dampening the pulsing ache the Blighted creature was exacerbating. The spirit was speaking, as well as the Commander and the Chancellor that would have executed Fen'lath if given the chance. How he had wanted to crush the man for suggesting they execute the only one who could possibly reverse what had been done with his orb! Even _he_ didn't understand what that magister had done before supposedly dying in the explosion, and had only managed to piece enough together to close the Breach through studying the Mark as it slept in Fen's palm.

"He wants to kill you."

Cole's voice broke through his musings. Of course Corypheus would want to kill Fen, try to steal her power. He felt the corners of his mouth draw down, his mouth pinch in disapproval as she blithely offered herself as a sacrificial halla. She was the most real shadow among these wisps, throwing herself on the pyre for them.

The Tevinter made a noise in his throat. Whatever had happened at Redcliffe, he and Fen got on like a house on fire, with the elder mage treating her like a beloved younger sister. The Ben-Hassrath just observed, like he always did. There was a tightening around his eye. So, he was affected. The Qunari also had a fondness for the irritatingly delightful elven woman, more than the good-natured facade he put on for all and sundry. Solas's hand tightened around his staff. He could feel the rigidity of his steps as he exited to follow the soldiers towards the final trebuchet.

"If we are to have a chance, if _you_ are to have a chance, let that thing hear you."

"We need to be noticed. Happens to be a specialty of mine!" Dorian quipped as he whipped a volley of fireballs at the Red Templars charging towards them. The Iron Bull's axe was brutally effective, cleaving one from collarbone to hip before Bull jerked it free and charged forward again, barrier springing from Fen's fingertips to protect him before she Fade-Stepped. The clouding mist re-formed at an angle that allowed her to spin her staff and slam it down, chaining lightning through three Templars and stopping them in their tracks for Solas himself to freeze and a swing of Bull's axe to shatter.

In a dance of fire, ice, lightning, and bellowing Qunari, they moved to the trebuchet, then bought time for Bull to winch it into position as the Red Templars swarmed it. Something in the Mark was singing, calling to them, a high note that made Solas want to clap his hands over his ears while grabbing Fen around the waist and running.

"It's in place, Boss!" Bull jumped off the trebuchet, a half-hearted swing smashing the last attacking Templar to the ground with gore-splattering finality.

The dragon wheeled through the air overhead with another screech. Fen waved at Dorian and Bull, "Move, now!"

Bull snorted like his namesake, "Like hell I'm leaving you alone to face that!"

Solas opened his mouth to protest as well, and she turned on them, fire in her eyes as they met his, "The Elder One wants me? He can come and face me. But please, don't make me watch you die for me again."

Her voice broke on the last. Redcliffe, the shattered future still haunted her. She grabbed his arm, shoved something into Solas's hand. Her voice shook with fear and determination. "If you must, you know the most about the rifts. Lead for me."

They all looked up at the roar, and ran as the dragon spat red-lyrium laced flames. He shoved whatever Fen had given him in his pocket. Bull grabbed Dorian when he stumbled on his way down the stairs in the Chantry, following the path left by the others. The cold air burned Solas's lungs, sending him into a state of trance-like clarity as the rush of his second wind kicked in.

Only an hour ago, he had been dancing with Fen'lath, both of them a bit flushed with wine and the rigors of the waltz she had coaxed him into. She had been joking about counting the freckles he had still from the Forbidden Oasis, gently tapping the air over them as she laughed and counted. He had been counting hers in return, playfully pushing her hand away to try to 'beat' her at the game. She would survive this, because she had to. Solas started marking spots along the path in the Fade. A quick glance with Fade-sight, marking it, then resuming the hurried pace to catch up with the bulk of the Inquisition. They heard the rumble of the avalanche start just as they broke the tree line, sighting the last straggling Haven survivors.

They could see the dragon lift off as the rush of ice, snow, and scree roared down the Frostbacks. Dorian made a strangled noise. "She's still down there."

"She will survive, I am sure of it. We must help get everyone to a safe spot, and she will find us. She _will_ find us, Dorian." Solas strode forward, marking other spots as they led the people further up. To speed things along, Solas picked up a small elven girl, the daughter of one of the maids, and carried her on his hip. A gentle nudge here and there steered the Seeker and Commander in the direction of _Tarasyl'an Te'las_ , the only unoccupied place for miles that would have room for all of them, and have places where he could study and cultivate his power. He did not let himself wonder if he would have to do it as the leader of the Inquisition. Fen'lath would survive, and she would find her way to them.

They found the right spot sheltered from the wind on the side of the mountain. Solas gave the child over to her mother, who essentially sank down against one of the wagons and fell asleep holding the girl immediately after being wrapped in a blanket. He walked to the edge of the camp, looking towards Haven. Fen'lath must be alive. Solas reached into his pocket to see what Fen had given him. The little halla amulet given to her by the elderly elf at Redcliffe rested in his palm.

The antlers of the amulet bit into the meat of his thumb as his hand clenched around it. More the fool he, calling her a sacrificial halla. Fen'lath was no halla, no creature to be led and herded obliviously from one place to another. Nor was she the wolf cub he had called her in his mind the day she had been given the amulet. The Dalish woman was definitely a wolf grown.

Solas sat down, and slipped into meditation, slipping to the furthest of his Fade markers with ease. He would wait, and when he sighted the Dalish wolf, he would lead her back to her pack.


End file.
